My Blog: jokes jokes stories funny
R / A / F
One of my acquaintances, as a student, worked part time teaching to work at a PC for students of some advanced training courses. And one of them DOS issued R / A / F. Pasha, without thinking anything bad, said: - You need to have an abortion. Silent scene. Comment of another friend of mine: - She probably thought: how does he know?
Everything is good, but in moderation
When I was a graduate student, I had to do internship at one of the Moscow scientific research institutes in Bata. And, in the same laboratory, a student from a "friendly socialist country" did practical work. So ... Once the head. the lab., arriving from a business trip, brought a five-liter jar of black caviar - a gift from local workers. And, as usual, on arrival an improvised table was organized - right in the laboratory, and the caviar was put in a small bowl for ease of use - scooped with a spoon, bitten and tidied. So far, the point is - our drinkers, snacks, bazaars about how a business trip was successful, how life is far from the capital, etc., this pretzel, from the socialist country, does not touch alcohol, no matter how much you offer (man himself is the owner - you want drink, you want - no), but everything caviar on the calf and sends it with spoons in your mouth. It is understandable - a man has never seen black caviar in such quantities in his life, and here you have a wash and a spoon. In general, in two hours, all satisfied and slightly knocked down steel diverges. And the next day, look - a trainee from a social camp at work and no. In the afternoon, people began to worry, but there was nowhere to call - there was no telephone in the hostel. And the next day, the pretzel also does not appear. As it turned out later, the guy who had lain in his room for three days with a wild abdominal pain and the only way he moved in short dashes was only to the outhouse - a whole bowl of caviar (which is almost pure protein) made itself felt. In this example, I want to note that all is well, but in moderation.
Briefs and watches
It was, it was in times of old, not now, I was young then, but I already lived separately from my parents. I was an athlete and always went somewhere else in other cities, but the story is not about that. The story of how I once returned.
I was not in Novosibe week 2. I arrived early in the morning, arrived not at home, but at about 5 o'clock to my parents, but by 8 I went to work, I drove the folder to my work, the mother was still at home, running around in a nightie about the house, eating change clothes And I'm dirty, dirty, I get into the bath faster - to wash, shave, change clothes and run. And now I come out of the bath, all so clean, not so grimy, and I find that on the trip I have spent all my supply of clean, well, who have not happened ... cowards. And since I don’t live with my parents, my panties are not here either. I find a way out - ask for a loan from my father.
A small digression - 5 in the morning, that I, that the nurse, didn’t quite sleep well, was half asleep. I tell my mother and say - Mom, but give me some folders. PANTS Here is the key point. Nurse hears everything, but instead of the word cowards, she can hear the word WATCHES. Further dialogue:
- Yes, he does not have anything.
- How not?
- Well, no, BROKEN everything.
- Well, it bears SO, it always breaks everything !!!
Sleepy, I can not understand how he managed to BREAK them, and ALL.
- Mom, give me any folder clean panties!
- Yes, no, yes why are you soaring! TAKE MY OWN!
The stupor is full, here it is also necessary to know that my mom is not a very small inch, absolutely, fantasy paints pictures ...
- Yes, why are you - I have a lot of them, get out, take any, put in the Pocket and go!
- NO ONE AND DIDN'T SEE THAT THEY ARE FEMALE!
Why do I need mammy panties in my pocket, I couldn’t understand at all with my head ... Therefore, finally, the question finally came up - what are you talking about?
- What are you talking about?
Understood and so boring, as probably never in life with mom did not laugh ...
I'm traveling from Berdsk, home to my native Novosibirsk, I smoke, I listen to music, they stop at the lousy hill, I don't care, all the documents are in order, the mood is good, I go out - I say to the milonera:
I start to get the documents. Power of Attorney, certificate of registration of the vehicle, insurance .... RIGHT. Stop where are they? Passage through the pockets, the second pass, more convulsive ... No. The brain tries to remember, but fails. WHERE? Milzoner rejoices, but, as always, does not show it, sighs, shuffles from one foot to the other. I’m picking up my wife, asking if she sees rights on the table, she says no, and REMEMBER, went to the skating rink a couple of days ago, took skates for hire, and left the pledge rights - I didn’t take it.
Further, as always, the parking lot, fine, we'll go, your sentences, 200, protocol in hand, mneem piece of paper, 400, UUUU, nuuuu, 500. OK!
In the morning - at the rink, there are no aunts with hire, there is an uncle, imbued with a problem, I told him that he skated for 500 pounds on skates, he laughed. They found the keys, searched - no, he calls his aunt from the rental, she says that she didn’t see any rights, I ask the key question: - WHERE do you usually put the pledge, yourself in the table or in the package with shoes?
- No, not in the bag, put it right in the shoes ...
Second delay ... I take off my right shoe. The uncle's eyes are so big (he didn’t hear what she said to me on the phone). I take out the boot right ... OUT!
Gentlemen motorists REMEMBER that lost rights must not only fumble in your pockets, they may be in the most interesting places! I stand before this reptile, he divorces me, and the rights - in the shoe ...
Husband told. Once he was looking for some office, it was necessary for work, and therefore paid attention to the signs. And here is the building, all the signs hung close to each other. It has a wide double door, each of the flaps of which apparently led to its office. Above the left casement in bright letters was written "INTIM". Red on black. Above the right wing modestly flaunted "Lombard".
Overall impression - "Intimate pawn shop". I wonder what values you can pass there?
Just recently rode the tram. The day was after a holiday of some kind, I can’t definitely remember. We are going and then, passing the turn, the tram dramatically slows down. The first door opens and the conductor runs out, and then everyone watches how that conductor rushes into the tram interior, but with a huge sidewall from the tram. Then everyone rode barely restraining a smile on his face.
Once upon a time I had a friend with a simple Soviet name, Silin. And there was a prikolshchik named Dima Levers.
Imagine - the Soviet era, the Soviet laundry, dry cleaning. Dima Silin delivers clothes in the dry cleaners.
- Your last name?
Dima Silin clearly, by syllables:
Leverage, peering over his shoulder:
- Yes, yes, without a hyphen!
The receptionist writes in the form: "Xi Lin" Type Chinese ...
Not completely useless exercise
Somehow one of my friends, who was not a fool to drink at all, got into a camp in the summer camp. In the day of the pioneers I built it, and in the evening, after the command "hang up", life itself began - a lot of vodka, some snacks and a guitar. At these gatherings usually attended some kind of shepherd, accustomed to collect glass. Well, there, drank a bottle - and in the bushes. And the sheepdog there will also break in and bring it to her teeth. It would seem that the occupation is completely stupid and senseless, but it turned out that it was not quite. Because once the dog returned not with an empty container, but with a full one. At first, everyone decided that they finally drank themselves to hell. Then, in their drunken minds, the suspicion stirred that they all didn’t go crazy together. A little more time passed, and some bright head finally realized that this full bottle in the bushes was the work of thrifty pioneers.
PS. Ah, youth ...
We decided to go to my old men to the country. Our cottage is located on picturesque meadows sixty kilometers from St. Petersburg. There are many pomegranates, mushrooms, shells, birch and spent cartridges. We did a couple of days collecting and reviewing the above. It is time to leave. We drank yogurt, said goodbye to the woman-grandfather and pushed the peshkor through the woods to the railway station. Where on the road and saw a crow sitting on a stump. The crow must have been tame and lost her master. Seeing us, she, joyfully yelling something in her gibberish, with long jumps-hops, ran to meet her. I had to meet her and exchange a couple of phrases. Crow could say something like the word "m-boy-ch-chik-k-ki" and croaked Morse code. We decided to take it with you. Placed on the shoulder in the absence of cells. She incessantly rotated her head to the whole trip to St. Petersburg, and blinking her eyes, pleased the public by croaking two or three times in a row, with an enviable frequency about once every ten minutes.
She shared, probably, a bitter experience of living in the woods and passed on signals of the exact time. Karkala she pierced and very somehow suddenly, attracting the attention of the entire public in the car, which caused a heightened interest to our modest people. Of course, we liked this case, we answered questions with pleasure, telling everything about the crow that we only knew - and that she was the only surviving participant in the ice drift of the brave communist Papanin, and that she saw the uprising of Spartacus, and that she is a holder of the Order of the Brave Garter ... There was noise, din, jokes, and we really liked the trip to Peter. Arriving at the station and by the time of landing in the subway, we were ready to communicate with the audience at any level and tell Voronin a biography in minutes and minute details. The crow, it must be said, flew away from our participation to it and croaked a doublet every minute, just glowing with the happiness of social life acquired back. However, in the subway with the crows are not allowed, and I had to unstick it from the shoulder of my friend. As a result, it became clear why this bastard karkala. As shown by our investigative experiment, kark meant twice to pee in a small way, and kark three times - you understand. My friend swore so that Mount Everest, probably, was shaking with a large shiver and climbers fell from it. Also, when he saw the degree of closeness of the jacket, he tried to give a stump to a poor animal, or at least do something adequate with it. There was nothing funny, especially in the form of his back. We had to do something. Recalling all the known methods of catching wild and dangerous animals, we stopped at the method of snake catchers. The crow was repressed into a canvas bag in which our shoes lay with some clothes. Reproachfully proclaiming something like "Oh, boys, boys ...", she fell silent. The house was not so far away, and our chances of getting an asshole without further adventures were very real. The subway car met us with bodies and the only free seat where my friend sat down, and I hung, propped up by the bodies, above his head. After a couple of stops, the train stopped in a tunnel. Stood for about five minutes. Very, you know, oppressive silence. It seems that everyone wants to fart, but they are very shy, everyone stands and waits, who will be the first to be dishonored.
In the meantime, my friend, feeling the bag, made a tragic face and kicked me with his foot:
“Doesn't even move,” he said, “maybe she died?”
“Look,” I advised, “just carefully.” What he did, slowly opening the bag and putting his hand in it.
In response, he heard the piercing Carr Number One. I do not know how it all looked for St. Petersburg citizens who were in the car, but the silence came just deathly.
No one expected this, and everyone listened frantically.
Following this came Carr Number Two. And ... Carr Number Three was like a gas cylinder explosion in a dairy. After the echo, which foreshadowed the stool of a proud animal, sped out on our sports pants and sneakers, overlapping the roar and excitement of the public, the ringing voice of my friend sounded with overwhelming longing for lost pants that rocked the entire Order of Lenin Metropolitan to eat urine:
- Fucked up !!! Roly !!! B # i !!! She will be happy !!!
For a long time, the crow flew over the carriage of the carriage and the croaked one, fucking, croaking, fucking ... croaking ...
He lived with my sister, a boule, a kind soul of dogs, and, which is typical of all good little creatures, this toothy bench was extremely voracious. Once, my sister prepared something tasty, fragrant and with a crispy crust, so that the beer could drink better. We sat at the table, began to drink beer and crunch appetizing. The dogs were sitting under the table and frankly drooling (Pavlov's dogs are resting), accompanying this spectacular process with a quiet grunting. But nobody paid attention to the dog. A few minutes later, when a decent puddle spread on the floor, the dogs decided to move to an unoccupied stool next to the table. From a new observation post dogs not only heard, but also saw how something extremely tasty disappears in the insatiable mouths of greedy owners. They say that boules, like real imbeciles, are not particularly emotional - they are mistaken. The dogs, without ceasing to drool and grunt, moved onto the table and began to devour a beer snack at incredible speed. Hearing of such impudence, the sisters' husbands did not immediately react to the swift attack, but after a short time-out, rendered a fitting rebuff to the voracious creature - slammed with a weighty fist between piggy eyes. When the dogs came to their senses from the blow, he did a completely unexpected thing for everyone - PUT ON THE TABLE !!! Enraged by the swineish behavior of the creature, the sisters' husband plunged the dog's face into a still fresh pile of feces, accompanying the execution with terrible screams and blows on the muscular canine ass. After some time, it was noticed that the dogs stopped grunting and, in principle, showed no signs of life. Immediately, an emergency veterinary service was called, and the dog, in the meantime, tried to revive liquid ammonia. Of course, the doctors pumped out the poor animal, but what turned out to be the most interesting, according to their diagnosis, the dog suffered from rude behavior - INFARCT !!!
My friend had a 401st Muscovite. 1956, if not mistaken. Occasionally he was repaired just to drive, so only the left rear wheel braked him, the handbrake did not work at all, and the gas pedal spring was very tight.
Since this unit was used only for trips to the cottage, a comrade made a manual gas lever out of the non-working handbrake lever. The track is long, empty, a pleasure: stretched out the lever and sitting leg on the leg, finger you steer. Here's how we arrived at the dacha, out of habit left the car open (well, no one needs it), went to drink vodka, and drank until they fell. In the morning they found the following picture: there is no Muscovite on the spot, they hijacked It turned out not far. Leaving the village, the idiot who hijacked, decided to slow down, the brake, of course, did not work. Then he pulled the handbrake.
Further it is easy to imagine: we found this village Schumacher in the bushes next to the car, completely disconnected (from moonshine and an accident) and with a physiognomy thoroughly broken on the steering wheel. The only thing we regretted with a friend was that we did not see facial expressions of this type, when the car responded to the handbrake with significant acceleration.
About the drivers who came to work in Moscow. I myself am a forwarder. Salary depends on the speed of movement in the city, so drove perfectly aware of all the secret paths for avoiding traffic jams at a great price!
Especially appreciated by former taxi drivers who have substitute for gazelles.
We have custom-made machines at our company, new ones every day. The main thing is not to make a mistake in the morning when choosing a carrier. And here is the morning. Before the warehouse is a dozen gazelles. Not a single friend.
I fly up to the one and that, who did you work? He speaks a taxi driver for 15 years. Well, I think chocolate! Grab it in my arms and load. Half an hour later, we leave for the Moscow Ring Road, and then my “ac roads” grabs my head and gives me:
- No shit myself what is the Moscow Ring Road.
!!! I'm in touch! It turned out he worked as a taxi driver for 15 years in Lipetsk. At home I was at 3 o'clock in the morning!
On Saturday, two well-known men dragged me with them to the hunt. Like, shoot hares. Good men, both earrings, moved and roamed while hunting. We drove into the wilderness, around thirty kilometers of a single village, beautiful, skis and fastened - everything is as it should be. We go one after another, I am the last, around the edge we go around the forest.
Suddenly, the 1st Seryoga stops rooted to the spot. The second one is stuck in his boots with skis and quietly cursing. The following is a dialogue worthy of a Guy Ritchie movie:
2nd Serge (offended):
- You yourself are a woodpecker.
- No, over there, on a tree - a woodpecker.
2nd, after a pause:
- Well, there, on a tree - a woodpecker. What's next?
- I need a woodpecker.
- Why the woodpecker?
- My daughter asked, said - I want a woodpecker in the house.
; "His house stuffed - pieces 10-20, and animals, and birds." 2nd (sarcastically):
- Couldn't say that one woodpecker already lives in her house for a long time?
1st (removing from the shoulder the 16th caliber):
- She needs a REAL woodpecker.
BABAH. Doublet, small fraction. A pile of snow is being cut from the tree, against this background the unharmed woodpecker hurries to retreat.
- ####### !!!
Then suddenly, in front of 300 meters from the forest, a huge MOOSE jumps out with a bang and scratches away from us in all its elk agility, rapidly decreasing in size.
2nd Seryoga (viciously):
- Well, and who here now _ REAL CHILDREN_ ?!
I could not resist skiing. I could go on only five minutes later.
One lightweight boxer, a discharger, with a fairly well-known surname Shishkin, liked to kick to a complete blackout, and after that he hobbled to the house on autopilot, usually 10 kilometers and was always on the road without incident. But when he reached the place, he turned off completely - either on the stool near the house or on the landing at the entrance. Somehow he got to the site on the first floor and passed out. His neighbor spotted and mother reported. His mother tried to start - and he didn’t want to ... The poor woman went out on the street, asked two men to bring her son ... They came in, took the guy by the arms ... And he suddenly woke up, quickly assessed the situation ... Two blow - men in the knockout - Shishkin is sleeping on! So he had to fill up at the entrance ...
I had an acquaintance at me at Fizhete, a good man, but I really didn’t like his dean's office. Well, do not get along, what can you do. Accordingly, his exam results were constantly monitored and all sorts of strictness were arranged. And so, after another failure to appear for the exam (who knows what could happen to a person there) he brings a certificate from our own polyclinic to the dean's office. A deputy dean does not take help.
“It doesn’t happen,” he says, “so that the therapist can give information about a bad tooth.” I'll go and clean up now.
There is a deputy dean with this certificate to the therapist, he arranges disassembly, and the doctor (the sweetest woman, because he didn’t love him for such numbers) answers him:
- There was no dentist that day, but the man came with temperature and pain - what else to do with it?
The deputy did not convince, and he went to the head physician for clarification. The head doctor confirmed that the dentist was not working that day. And at the request of the deputy dean to show about it the corresponding entry answered: this is MEDICAL MYSTERY! So the deputy departed with nothing. But the main thing is that the next day the second deputy decides that he is much smarter than the first, and repeated the same way. With the same result. And the peasant, with a certificate, and studied at the Physical and Technical Institute for a long time happily.
What was Beethoven's name?
I had a friend - Misha. Once in a not very snotty age, at 16-17 years old, he comes up to dad and asks: - Dad, what was Beethoven's name?
Dad, an elderly intellectual Jew, begins to spit saliva on Misha:
- Misha, how can you! You are an intelligent person! You go to school! We brought you up! Just a shame at that age not to know! Everyone has to soak it up with mother's milk! ..
Well, and so on. Then, having spoken, in an instructive tone:
- Remember, Misha, Beethoven's name was Johann ... Sebastian ...
(Sits on a chair, makes a pause for 10 seconds ...) ... Bach.
Misha had to pump out laughing, and dad was very confused.
I had a parrot (wavy). Not so long ago, he died, but there's no arguing against nature ... he lived for 16 years, a bastard, and this is an almost unique case, since they and 10 rarely live in captivity. The life path of this lovely creature was full of adventures, which he himself found on his ass. Here is just one example.
I was then 10-11 years old, the parrot was also young and full of energy, including sexual. And since he lived alone (we did not buy a friend to him), he satisfied his lust, well, literally, what we have to do - fucked (pardon) rubber dishwashing gloves, kitchen utensils (and he lived in our kitchen). But his greatest love was his eggs. Chicken. Seeing them, he was crazy about being a cat from valerian and was capable of anything. One fine morning, I have breakfast before going to school. Eat an egg. Soft-boiled. The parrot at the sight of this spectacle could not help it, dived into my hand and demanded to give me my favorite toy. In confirmation of the seriousness of his intentions, he held onto my finger weakly. I yelled a good mat. Mom, fearing that the entire contents of the egg will now pour out on my freshly ironed school uniform, scream:
- Throw on the table, figs with him, let him do what he wants, he does! .
I threw everything, the parrot in ecstasy rushed to the object of his passion and began to work with him, egg, love. (For those who do not know how birds do it, I explain: he sat on the tail, tried to hold the egg with his paws, at the same time making "this place" rotational movements, just like people, by God!). And imagine the situation: the parrot puffs on the table, the contents of the eggs in the "process" rapidly flows, filling all around. A parrot, not paying attention to fumbles in all this slush. Having finished his hard work, the birds proudly retreat into his cage, where he immediately dries to the perch. Since there was no time to mess with him in the morning, the resolution of the problem was left until the evening. Returning home, we found a pitiful sight - the parrot tightly stuck to the roost, moreover, was not able to even move, because the wings adhered to the body. Hardly having torn him from the perch, we shoved him under the tap, in full confidence that this bathing would be his last (they actually die from this). They pulled out half of the feathers to him, then wrapped them in a towel and put them in between the battery sections to warm themselves. Contrary to all the laws of nature, this bastard survived and even grew with feathers. To spite of all deaths !!!
Need a blowtorch
After warming the radiator stove in the Volga with a blowtorch (not a sight for the faint of heart), I came home, I decided to put a seagull.
I lift the teapot, and with a few tiltings I try to determine - how is it inside with water. Damn, nothing dangles. Damn, froze bastard. It is necessary to call a friend to run, if he is still in the garage, so that he would bring a blowtorch along the way. On the way to the phone, gradually, blurring in a smile, I begin to think with my head and laugh!
Rent a car or you can not spend us-2.
Hindus, seeing my fighting spirit and perseverance of the locomotive, sealed the wheel and put it back at the speed of the pit stop of formula 1 (while I was washing my hands). The secret key, as a souvenir from Russia, was proudly handed by me to the Hindus (who had not yet recovered) with the words:
- Present from the Russian mechanics !!!
The rental period of the "SHEVYA" was over, and we had to fly home in two days ... They called the Arab, got into the car (which is not typical for rental, right?) - all sorts of candy-bottles, kids all the same.
Our Arab arrived, silently took the car keys and moved to the exit ...
No hello, not yet!
-BUT ? Uh ... eh? - after we mumble we.
- It seems that a pledge would be nice to return, as it were - I began negotiations.
-What kind of money ?! Did you read the contract, huh?
And he pokes me with a bad finger in "special conditions", and there some rubbish is written, well, not a damn thing. Handwriting, damn it, like uch astcologist. We call the guide ...
Guide, happily so (!!!):
- And he will return the money to you in two weeks, he wrote it this way. If it is finite, no fines will be sent to you. And then you know what penalties ??? Y-Y-Y! - SOUR !!
- Yes, what fines! We are with children, you see ... There is a full bardachek of parking tickets, we are correct and decent all of ourselves ... Where are the violations from?
- I personally believe you, but you signed his additions, which means you agreed. I see that he wrote illegibly. It is not with you first. It is their business SUCH, they get your discount back. No wonder he dropped from $ 80 to $ 60. He sees that you are with children, and you would have taken more collateral ...
They all do it here.
- And what about you, NIT (!!!!), we were not warned before ?! We at you and on your aiming took the car? !!!!
- Well, I have to go, tour, you know, the group was waiting .. (backing away).
All in chorus, including children:
In the lobby of the hotel there is a ringing silence ...
.. We are Arab:
-My, and we conferred here and decided for a couple of days to rent your wonderful mobile, but on account of bail. Good?
- Know, sir!
- That's how.....?
- Know, sir!
- But this option ...?
- Know ......
- And what?
- You are for two days as regular customers for nothing -100 bucks! But the money is now.
Here comes my friend-Sanya (in a whisper):
- Beriberi, anyway, he already threw us, and now the fines are awesome, the traffic police do not have - the radar sequesters everything and that is why the hell he will get our bail back! It is better to make a feasible contribution to the development of the Emirates GAI !!!!
- Well, we take!
An Arab, happily holding in a hand weave, happily leaves (by the way, on lehus).
- Well, silence? The fun is just beginning! - Sanya commanded. We are going to the water park. I must say that the road there is very straight and very good, but the speed limit signs are still there ... km 80, I don’t remember exactly ....
After the speed of 140, the children from behind stopped fiddling, were silent and buckled up ......
We put the speedometer, put. I myself asked:
- Good, Sanya, we are not going alone!
Oh, and the Lechuses and Cuckers, moving along the way, were very surprised ... as they were blowing a family mini-candle. We drove to the restaurant.
OOOgromnyy sign (apparently for us) - "Do not park" 2 to 2 meters - no less and an arrow where, they say you can ... We look that we do not interfere with anyone and right under this sign in the shade neatly - jump!
A parking man runs, waves his arms, says something ...
We tell him:
- Do not worry, my dear man, we know that it is impossible here, but for us - it is possible! We have a travel card! Yes, we know that the fine will be, but to us - you can. We are with special permit, Kremlin, damn ...
So they left. Insolent.
I eat and see that someone is standing by the car, I looked: batyushki-holy! Who we see! - traffic police !!!! San, look, the cops drove up We leave to them. I need you, my dear! Here are the documents, insurance, figovka and so on.
-BUT? What? ........ of course we will pay, a little later ........ of course ..... yes .... no, have not seen the sign. The sun is bright, and it is in the shade (!). In the restaurant of the Russian tantrum ...
- And how much can you stand after the fine?
- Not at all! Clean the car, otherwise the tow truck will take!
“Then write us one more, please!”
- ?????? !!!!!
- And after the restaurant we still go swimming !!!!!
The policeman froze, his brain could not stand it at once .......
Of course, analyzing this adventure today, I see that we were (to put it mildly) wrong, but what happened was. I will try to fix it.
Do not return so to speak. But there is something to remember!
My man is the best man in the world!
He cooks me breakfast, lunch, dinner. And even snacks. Mixing cocktails exactly as I like and brings slippers when I come home from work. He goes shopping with me for hours, rushes to visit my mom, loves my friends. He carries me in his arms through puddles, gives me his hand when I get out of the car, does not ask where the money is. He is a great lover. Fantastic, but ...
But he is a PADONAK. No, he does not take candy from the kids, does not hit the bulbs in the hallways, does not swear in public places, does not spit on the floor, does not write dull words in the elevator and does not jump in puddles in order to sprinkle passersby.
He is a regular visitor and author of creatives of one padonkovskogo site.
I knew about it when we were just starting to build our relationship. At first, I firmly believed in the miraculous power of our love and that I could cope with it and re-educate it (I have three higher pedagogical educations and an A3 diploma awarded by Makarenko himself + courses of trainers-illusionists).
It’s just impossible to talk to him.
At my request to speak in normal Russian, he replied that I should teach Albanian. I learned. First Albanian, then Swahili, then Turkmen. But this did not improve our communication at all and the gap between us continues to grow and spread. During our first sex, instead of tenderness in his ear, he loudly declared “fdekke!”. When I gave him a marvelous plush heart embroidered with rhinestones, beads and lace, which I sewed especially for him for St. Valentine's Day, his response was “Cool userpic!”.
She read aloud to him with the intonation of Prishvin, Paustovsky, Derzhavin, Zhukovsky, in order to introduce him to the Russian language. He advised to drink a yadu and sent a flop.
To my mom's question about when we were going to get married, because she hadn’t seen a third-time aunt from Kryzhopol for a long time, and the wedding was a very suitable occasion, he answered her "terrible! Where is the moderator?" I was shocked. Mom was shocked. Everyone was shocked. Even the Kryzhopil aunt was shocked. When trying to talk again about the wedding of his answer: "Bayan."
I love him very much. And really want to be with him. I want to marry him and want to give birth to children from him: two boys and two girls. BUT when I hear from him once again, when clarifying the relationship "Give me two shit" or "Drain defended" ... I start crying and crying ..... and then I hear "Kisa, kuk! - you ? "...
I hired him tutors, locked him up for the whole day in the toilet so that he could not communicate on his padonkovskom site, beat him with a pointer on his hands, washed his mouth with soap, I went to my mother slamming the door ..... but still she came back ... because mom can't mix cocktails so well.
Aunts, dear and dear aunts! Dear aunts! And guys too! Tell me, is he an incorrigible padonak? Are all the men padon ??? Or you can do something about it? Maybe you need to get a fourth pedagogical education? Or drink a yadu and go to Bobruisk? Or maybe there is a special technology of slamming the door ??? Maybe I clapped wrong ???
I am desperate ... I do not know what to do? Has anyone already had valuable experience re-educating such men? Please help me...
strong> 10 stages of programmer morning hangover
1. Contemplative. He looks at the monitor with clear transparent eyes, does nothing, does not press anywhere, and sometimes, in amazement, says, looking at the screen: "Wow, who would have thought!" The computer is turned off from the outlet.
2. Active. With suspicion and squint looks at the keyboard, swaying with his whole body, then with a sharp movement throws out his hand, trying to press the desired button. In the case of a successful hit, shouts "E-hoo !!!"
3. Gloomy. Ponuro sits in front of the computer, trying not to make sudden movements. He types the text on the keyboard with the tongue of the head and holds the mouse with both hands so as not to tip over from the chair ... As it turned out, in vain.
4. Automotive. He is trying to start the computer with car keys, attach the radio tape recorder to the computer panel, and turn on the wipers, because "you can't see a damn thing, but you have to go"
5. Entertaining. He plays Quake, and from all types of weapons he prefers his own hands and fights with the monitor, threatens the computer to come back tomorrow with his karate friends, and send him away so that the "mother" does not recognize.
6. Terrorist. After another attempt to open his eyes, in horror shout it is that the computer is mined, because the clock is ticking in the lower right corner and diving under the table.
7. State. The sentence “Enter your password” screams into the computer: “Oh, bitch, you don't know me?”, Shows the monitor language, obscene gestures and certificate of the assistant to the deputy of the State Duma.
8. Optimistic. Fun, playful, handles the computer on an equal footing. Other pages on the Anekdot.ru page also recall a couple of funny stories and tell their monitor. Then they drink beer together, the computer swallows the drive.
9. Uniksovaya. - turns off the computer, drinks beer for two minutes, turns it on again, waits for the splash screen and says “Windows again, I hate Gates” in anguish, turns off the computer, drinks beer for two minutes, turns it on again.
10. Soothing. Long syllables reads from the screen "Now you can turn off the computer's power", after which, smiling softly, says "Thank you" and falls asleep on the keyboard.